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November 17, 2006

I Declare Next Week "Hairstory Week"

Over at Citizen Of The Month, Neil is always making proclamations and getting people to send him sex and money and perform tricks. (Ok, maybe he just has a way with getting people to photograph their laptop computers or videotape themselves singing songs and stuff. But, I'm sure he wishes it were sex. His wife Sophia, is maybe not so much wishing this same thing.)

I like Neil and he has invited me to come to lunch and meet him and Sophia but I haven't yet because I am a hermit, and I do things like "stay home" and "watch Tivo" and "drink wine." Perhaps that is what makes dating so hard ... you have to leave your house. And ya'll may suspect it already, but allow me to confirm that I can take reclusive to new levels. I'm like Emily Dickenson without the talent, or Howard Hughes without the money... or the fingernails. Because, eeew. That is just nast!

I have always, always been shy and reclusive. People laugh when I say I'm "shy." Sometimes they laugh so hard they fall over, and almost pee themselves. But by "shy" I mean: I am painfully, horribly terrified of saying stupid/awkward/ridiculous/offensive things, so in my effort to NOT DO THAT, I in fact do a whole lot of it and talk too fast and sometimes perspire. Nice.

You wonder why I do not want to leave my cave.

As a young person, one who was not perhaps all the time firmly grounded in reality and the notion that "photos are for a lifetime..." one of the ways I branched out with the awkwardness was to take rather daring and adventurous risks with my hair. This drove my parents almost literally insane. In retrospect, I can see their point. Why would a serviceably coiffed young lady decide to cut off all her hair only in one spot, creating a side-part mohawk? Why?

My answer: BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE NEATO.

So, while the Wall O' Bangs was fun, and certainly funny in its death-defying grip on gravity, it was not even CLOSE to being the worst of the worst of the funny of my Hairstory. And my parents, who perhaps suspected I would one day grow up and try to deny all things such as "mullet" and "sun-in incident" and "perm of death" took plenty of photographs and love to make fun of me to this day about my "adventurous spirit" or, as my brothers put it, "fool ass haircuts."

So, in a Neil-esque "I Declare!" manner, I hereby declare next week, which is a short week because of Thanksgiving and because of my wine-drinking that will take place as soon as this project ends, The Week Of Hairstory.

And I will post my pictures which shall shock and guffaw you. And I encourage you to do the same! I may not be able to leave my house sometimes, but thanks to the innernets my awkwardness and fool-ass haircuts will be able to warm hearts everywhere, mostly because you can be thrilled your parents never allowed you to get a SIDE-PART MOHAWK. It was really... uh. Neato.

Posted by laurie at November 17, 2006 9:19 AM